


stings like a killer

by deathspellsiero



Category: Death Spells, Fall Out Boy, Green Day, Leathermouth, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Aka me expressing my angry trans dude emotions, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Multi, Short Chapters, Trans Male Character, possible sex pistols references oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathspellsiero/pseuds/deathspellsiero
Summary: - Mr. Armstrong's chorus class, a class for the kids in the school who can "sing" although most people can't even beat the talent of their teacher. It's said that bad things happen if you're late. Dallon Weekes, Gerard Way, James Euringer, Chantal Claret.- Mr. Wright's Band class. Band geeks. What else is there to say? Mr. "Cool" is a fun-loving guy, it's easy to get on his good side. Francesca Iero, Brendon Urie, Peter Wentz, Michael Way.- Mr. Pritchard's drama class, this class is full of drama, ironically enough. Mr. "Dirnt"'s sassy responses and the homosexual versions of plays he chooses to do will make any student lose their mind. George Ross, Breezy Douglas, Patrick Stump, Lindsey Ballato.Three classes face off throughout the school year, although they soon seem to wonder what they're really fighting for.





	1. hell begins

"Good morning, all." Mr. Dirnt said flatly, standing at the front of the classroom. He had a muscular build and tattoos, wearing a black muscle top and jeans, and it seemed rather casual for a teacher. "I, uh. Welcome to Drama."

Most of the class responded in the form of a groan or a wave.

"Wow, you look like an interesting bunch. Anyways, we're gonna go over some rules..."

 

Mr. Pritchard droned on about something, something that didn't interest Ryan in the slightest. Something about keeping your hands to yourself and bullying and what not; things they'd heard a thousand times at the beginning of the school year that everyone seemed to forget about. Ryan's face felt warm. He felt his eyelids droop and close over the sockets, and he pried them open, watching Mr. Pritchard walk around the classroom and speak in a rather bored tone. This wasn't fun for him, either, clearly.

He had to stay awake. It was the first day.

 

***

"Ross. Ross," He woke up to a banging sound and jumped out of his seat rolling onto the floor and into a protective ball.

"Hm- what. Oh." Mr. Pritchard, or Dirnt as was written on the board, was standing over him with a baseball bat in hand. It became quickly obvious that the thing that had caused Ryan such a scare was him beating it on the desk.

"Sleeping already? Seriously, man?" The teacher sighed, looking not annoyed but possibly a little amused.

"Rough night yesterday." Said Ryan, causing a snicker to arise from the rest of the class.

"Too much- wait, can't say that here," Mr. Dirnt said dryly, bringing up yet another snicker from the rest of the class.

Ryan thought about all the things he might have been planning to say, and a crimson blush rose to his cheeks as he stood up and sat back down.

Breezy poked him in the shoulder when Mr. Dirnt finally turned away.

"I heard a rumor that he and Mr. Armstrong are gay." Breezy said in a hurried whisper, staring Ryan directly in the eyes and grumbling.

"No shit, man, do you see the skinny jeans Mr. Dirnt's wearing?" Ryan said flatly and a bit too loudly, and Mr. Dirnt turned around to face the rest of the class.

"D-did someone say something?" His stutter was covered very well by a cough which was impressive.

Ryan giggled, tapping his pencil against the desk. He could tell it would be an interesting year.


	2. fantastic bastards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Meme school?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> into mr.armstrong's Lit TM classroom  
> god i hate my english professor i turned in an essay and she says she didn't get it like what the fuck i gave it to you in person,, university is a fun ride.  
> anyways i'm not in the best place right now so my updating schedule is gonna be totally random. getting a new binder in a few weeks so that's good!

"Chantal Claret? Is there a Chantal here?" Mr. Armstrong repeated for about the fifth time, eyeing the classroom. "Dumb kid. Absent on the first day.." he sighed, then decided to continue his role call. 

"Okay, uhh, bare with me guys, sorry this is taking so long. James Euringer? Are you here?" He looked up from his clipboard and saw people sprawled out in their chairs, bored expressions on their face.

"James? James. Euringer." Mr. Armstrong glared at his clipboard, and for a second he had the urge to snap it in half. How dare they find it acceptable to not be there on the very first day of school?

"Okay. Um." He coughed into his arm. "Er, Gerard Way." A boy with short blonde hair and a beanie raised his hand. "Here." The boy's voice was monotonous and bored, yet crisp and rough at the same time. "No hats in class, Gerard." The boy scowled at him and tore his beanie off with a grouchy sigh. Clearly he didn't want to be here.

Mr. Armstrong prided himself in taking his job very seriously, ignoring the fact that he completely ignored the rules himself, with his violent blue hair and nose ring, and arm full of tattoos. He hardly followed the dress-code, wearing a vest on his best days, but today he was sporting a black hoodie. His students weren't the biggest fan of him for his hypocrisy, but they did appreciate that there was a teacher willing to bend the rules. Plus Mr. Armstrong was the coolest teacher ever, apart from being strict - he constantly talked about how he was in a band and how he had a boyfriend. But the students this year didn't know that, and right now they hated him. He was so boring and appeared to be a strict asshole, even with his blue hair.

"Uh, okay. Dallon Weekes?" Dallon raised his hand, the only kid in the class who looked energetic. Dallon was wearing a Twenty One Pilots shirt and ripped jeans, and had dark brown hair that swept over the side of his face. Cool, this was the emo kid for the year. "What kind of fuckin' name is Dallon.." Mr. Armstrong muttered quietly, but no one noticed, or seemed to notice. 

"Okay, so, I'm Mr. Armstrong, if you want you can call me Billie Joe, you guys seem chill enough. Number one rule in this class is: Don't be late, or I'll personally beat you with my guitar. Just kidding, that's probably illegal." He looked around at the class and glared before looking back down at his clipboard. "So, people join my class because they think it's the easy class. It's not. The easy class is Mr. Dir- er, Pritchard's class, he's so nice that he ends up giving everyone an A." He laughed a little, thinking about how much of a weak spot Mike had for being nice to these rowdy ass teenagers. "Don't try to switch out, the year ends up being fun for my actually decent students. I'm not that bad, is what I'm saying. Just do the work and you'll be fine."

"We will do lots of collaborations with Band and Drama, like singing in the background for pl-"

The door swung open, and a boy with curly brown hair that swept over the side of his face rushed in, with a shorter girl attached to his arm and following him in. They were giggling and quickly sat down in seats next to each other.

"S-sorry, uh, that we're late. We had, a, uh, um, thing. To go to." The boy, presumably James, told Mr. Armstrong.

"Yeah. Yeah." The girl said, nodding after he finished.

The older man glared at the two. "James and Chantal, I would guess?"

"That's us. I go by Jimmy, though."

"Alright. Well, I won't give you detention or a bad participation grade today since it's the first day, but don't expect me to be so lenient in the future." Mr. Armstrong's glare cut into the both of them, his cold eyes staring them down.

Gerard smirked from the back of the classroom, observing what was going on.  
What a way to start the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't proofread this one, and I know it's short. sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> these r really short and bad oops


End file.
